After the claims of religion had been duly acknowledged, Romulus called his people to a council. As nothing could unite them into one political body but the observance of common laws and customs, he gave them a body of laws, which he thought would only be respected by a rude and uncivilised race of men if he inspired them with awe by assuming the outward symbols of power. He surrounded himself with greater state, and in particular he called into his service twelve lictors. Some think that he fixed upon this number from the number of the birds who foretold his sovereignty; but I am inclined to agree with those who think that as this class of public officers was borrowed from the same people from whom the "sella curulis" and the "toga praetexta" were adopted- their neighbours, the Etruscans-so the number itself also was taken from them. Its use amongst the Etruscans is traced to the custom of the twelve sovereign cities of Etruria, when jointly electing a king, furnishing him each with one lictor
And?
Well, its that “duodecim” which is bound to capture the attention of the naive reader. And then see 1.16, “The Strange Death of Romulus”, which corresponds in several points to the book of Matthew, which it anticipated by some years. I stumbled upon this in my own reading some years ago, and I remain perplexed as to why these remarkable parallels do not receive popular recognition, even though, or I should say especially since, they could hardly have escaped the attention of scholars throughout the Christian Age.